


Neighborhood Watch

by Nexas_Hart



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Don't Judge Me, Fluff, Neighborhood Watch - Freeform, New Yorkers are done putting up with things, POV Outsider, Spider-Man Interacting with New Yorkers, limited medical knowledge, will add more tags as time goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexas_Hart/pseuds/Nexas_Hart
Summary: New York City, home to villains and heroes of all shapes and sizes. Also one of the most heavily populated cities in the United States of America. They experience the never ending battle between good and evil on what seems to be a weekly basis. Some of them decide to lend a helping hand to the heroes.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Original Character(s), Clint Barton & Original Male Character(s), Felicia Hardy & Original Female Character(s), Felicia Hardy & Peter Parker, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Peter Parker & Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker & Original Male Character(s), Thor (Marvel) & Original Character(s), Thor (Marvel) & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	1. Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd try this out. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 1: Done

When I walk out of my apartment building, I just exhales in exasperation. Cars overturned, chunks of the street missing, light poles bent and crushed on the ground, debris everywhere. Then again, that’s what you can usually expect from a fight between Spider-man and the Rhino. If anything, this is tame compared to some of his other run-ins with this particular villain. At least none of the buildings are collapsing thins time.

There’s a groan as one of his neighbors comes out to see his car flipped over on the road, completely caved in on itself. It’s not too bad. Damage Control is probably one of the only privately funded organizations that doesn’t pinch pennies during settlements. The problem will be him having to walk and take the subway to work for about a week while all of the paperwork is filed to get his money.

“Not like I’d be able to get it out on this road,” the man in question grumbles as he surveys the rest of the scene.

“My power’s out!” A woman across the street calls out. “Anyone else?”

A few more calls of confirmation come from some of the other people in the area. The damage to the street must’ve hit some of the underground power lines. That’ll take a while to fix. The last fight with Electro proved that pretty well.

“They finally pinned down the horned menace,” Sarah, the girl across the hall, scrolls through news updates on her phone. “Went four more blocks before that, though.” She looks up at me. “The vibrations shook my planter off. Could you help me out?”

“Our usual agreement?” I smile at her.

“I’ll make stir-fry,” she grins. “You can pick the movie.”

“Perfect.”

The entire block comes together, like always, and takes stock of the various damages. People start moving perishables from dark apartment complexes to buildings with working refrigerators. Spidey dropped a water tower and one of the AC units from the roof of a building onto the Rhino’s head. In the middle of summer, it’s not good to be without water or AC. Those tenants are going to have to sweat it out or find another place to stay. Finally, the familiar trucks of the Department of Damage Control grace us with their presence.

Same song and dance as always. Don’t cross the yellow tape, follow the directions of the workers and suits, report anything unusual. A few of the DODC staff can be a little grating, and I’ve expressed my wish to sock them in the jaw to the other tenants a few times. Most of them, however, are just regular workers that have been vetted and approved to work on these types of messes. Nice enough, and very grateful if you bring them snacks and water.

I call my boss and tell him about my block being hit. He understands and lets me work from home today. I’ll work on the editing I still have after I head to the hardware store to replace what I couldn’t salvage from the planter box. It’s going to be a busy day, and despite the date I got out of it, it’s still a pain.

***

The flashing lights of the police cars and ambulances paint a much more stressful scene than what the actual situation is.

The last of a group of bank robbers had decided he should run into the complex across the street from him. With a gun in his hand and the cops closing in, he figured he could take a couple of hostages and negotiate a getaway with what little money he had been able to run away with.

What he didn’t expect was the retired army commander that lived behind the door he kicked in. The man was old, with a bad knee and only half of his teeth, but he probably made the criminal lose a few of his own after handing him his ass on a silver platter. By the time the police had arrived, they had more trouble dealing with the irate old man than they did the person they were chasing.

The next day, I start thinking. There’s an idea mulling around in my brain that I just can’t seem to pin down. I think about how something similar might’ve happened if the man broke into some of the other complexes. A taekwondo instructor lives on the floor below me. She actually spars with the former semi-pro MMA fighter that lives two buildings down. It’s not too rough a neighborhood, but it’s bad enough that most people carry pepper spray or have some form of basic self-defense. Sarah even has a softball bat from her high school days that she more than knows how to use, and I’ve got some fighting sticks and martial arts training that my dad taught me after his near decade of living in the Philippines for work. Can’t do much against a dude with an alien blaster or superpowers, but regular people breaking and entering would be surprised.

We have people who know more than enough to defend ourselves, and others who have a good variety of skills that can help in more than one way. Nurses, programmers, engineers, former law enforcement and armed forces, and not a few volunteer fire fighters. I’m just the editor for a publishing company, but if I can help bring these people together, I might as well try. I grab one of the many blank notebooks I use and begin my outline.

_Neighborhood Watch_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No actual update schedule. Just posting when I write something new for it.


	2. There Was An Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussing with the neighbors.

Chapter 2: There Was an Idea

“You sure about this, kid?”

“Not at all,” I give the man next to me at the pinochle table my best grin. “It’s reckless, dangerous, and a little stupid. But it’s an idea. A plan. And it makes me feel a hell of a lot better about all of this than just sitting back and watching our home go down in flames every time some piece of shit with some sci-fi tech decides his sad backstory makes it okay to break the law and threaten the city.”

It’s game day in our complex. Something that one of the former tenants started up, but has continued on after he moved. Everyone who wants to and is able to gets together with multiple fold out tables and chairs, and we play card and board games up on the roof. Tarps and windbreakers hang from poles all around the playing area, and a few of the younger kids are joining some of the other adults in a cutthroat game of Monopoly. The teens have Apples to Apples, but I happen to know that one of them has Cards Against Humanity in their backpack for the days when their parents and the more serious adults can’t make it. I have been known to join them sometimes in those cases.

“But it’s that sci-fi tech that’s the problem,” the man argues back as he plays trump on a hand and takes the stack. “Remember what the Rhino did just last week. We can’t do anything to stop something like that.”

“I know,” I sigh. “But what about Electro, huh? It was a blown fire hydrant that took him down last time. I know Mike has some of his fire hoses at his place, and Sue said that the Shocker’s suit is the same way.”

“But what about the Green Goblin? Or that Lizard guy? Do you think we can stop guys like that?”

“Actually,” the player across from me joins the conversation. “We could probably slow down the Lizard if we could get ahold of some liquid Nitrogen.”

“Hey!”

All four of us turn to look at the table beside us, currently playing poker. One of the guys has a grin and is looking at us.

“Couldn’t help but overhear,” he continues. “But I happen to have the certifications and access to liquid nitrogen. There’s a bit of an issue with volume orders, but I could get enough in time.”

“I doubt it would do much,” another poker player, William, speaks up. “Sure, it did some damage during his fight with Spidey, but it didn’t take him out completely.”

“Then we run,” I tell them. “Look, I don’t want us to try to play hero. That role’s already being done. I just think that there is the occasional villain that has such a glaring weakness that we could take them down while the heroes and police are too held up. If we aren’t completely sure,” I shrug. “We just run and hide. Better some property damage than our lives, right?”

The rest of the adults have started listening to our conversation. I can see mixed reactions among the audience. Reluctance and displeasure alongside understanding and support.

“I’m just tired of constantly being the victim,” I lean back in my chair, exasperated. “I don’t know. Maybe we don’t fight the big guys, but when they come knocking, I want to be able to do something to help. Something that, when I see the damage they caused, makes me think that I was able to keep it from being worse.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ideas are appreciated.
> 
> Comment and Kudos.


	3. Cross Your Path

Chapter 3: Cross Your Path

She’s trying. She really is.

It’s difficult to give up a life of crime. The thrill of the chase. Her heart beating out of her chest as she avoids police and vigilante alike. Of course, there was always one hero the Black Cat would let trap her in his web, whether he’s married or not.

Sadly, it’s also that same hero that caused her to change her ways. It was rocky at first. She used to take the idle trinket from the museums after she tied up the crooks. Compensation, she called it. Even when she stopped that, she would skim a little off of the top of criminals’ ill-gotten gains when after the fight. She still did that every now and then, on the bigger jobs, it’s not like she can get any well-paying employment with “professional thief” as her only previous work experience, but all in all, she’s on the up and up.

The reformed cat-burglar hisses as she lands on the next roof, dropping to a knee as the hole in her leg sends another jolt of pain through her body. Sure, she can give her enemies a case of bad luck, but sometimes it also hits her just as much. A bullet punching through as a trigger-happy cop that didn’t get the memo of her newly acquired conscience is the price she pays tonight. Not the worst she’s had, it was a through and through, but that doesn’t exactly give her much comfort on this chilly night.

“Miss Black Cat.”

Whipping around, the woman stumbles on her injury but keeps her eyes focused in the direction of the noise. In the light of a heat lamp, there’s a young girl standing in front of a chair she was probably in before. Felicia must be out of it to not even realize that she isn’t alone on the roof.

“You’re hurt,” the girl takes a step forward.

Instinctively, the former criminal takes a step back. It just so happens to be on her bad leg, and the damn thing finally gives out on her. The girl rushes the rest of the way to her.  
“Let’s get you inside,” she hoists her up, letting the vigilante lean into her. “I have a fairly extensive first-aid kit and a nurse on call.”

***

“Well,” the final snip of the scissors sounds along with the voice of the person suturing up her wounds. “It didn’t hit anything major, luckily, so I’d recommend staying off the leg for at least three weeks. Clean it regularly and carefully. The stitches can come out in about two weeks. Make sure to check for infection. However, you vigilantes never listen, so just try not to do any strenuous activity at least until the stitches are out. Deep wounds like that can still cause some lasting physical trauma that could hinder your actions in the future.” The nurse stands up and turns to the owner of the apartment. “I’ll leave the rest to you. I need to get a bit more sleep before my shift tomorrow.”

“Thanks Janice,” the younger girl smiles at the nurse.

“Anytime Carter,” Janice returns the sentiment. “Call if you need anything else.”

A couple of awkward minutes later, the nurse has left, and the pair is alone again. Not even saying a word, the girl gets up from the chair she was sitting in, walks into the kitchen, and ladles out two bowls of soup. Bringing it back, she sets one in front of the injured masked hero and keeps another for herself. Not one to turn down a free meal, Black Cat starts to eat. As she slurps up the meal, the vigilante starts to think that the bullet hole in her leg might’ve been a lucky break after all.  



	4. Tech Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man gets some help from some equally friendly neighbors.

Chapter 4: Tech Support

Mysterio chose the perfect time to come out of whatever technologically infused hole he lives in. Avengers on mission, Defenders in the middle of a battle with the Hand, and every other superhero team out of town or not available for some reason or the other. Thus, leaving our Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man to deal with the annoyingly advanced special effects artist by himself. Again.

“Drones,” the webslinger pants as he lands on a rooftop, actually a bit out of breath from the fighting. “Really Beck? Be at least a bit more original.”

Despite his sarcasm, Spider-man is starting to tire out. The holograms and illusions have been messing with his senses this entire fight, and having to rely on his Spidey Sense to dodge any attack while hardly being able to counter attack has really started to do a number on him both physically and mentally.

“Original or not,” Quentin Beck’s voice echoes from the fishbowl on his head. “They seem to be doing the job quite well, wouldn’t you say?”

The fighting starts again as Spidey has to shut his eyes to avoid the vertigo of colors being produced by the projections. He only manages brief peeks at his surroundings as the swirling starts to make him dizzy. He does alright, though. The problem is the sheer number of drones Beck must’ve been building while living under whatever rock he crawled out from. Eventually, if the vigilante can’t find some way to stop the drones, he’s going to tire out.

Spider-man is eventually clipped by one of the bots, sending him careening onto a roof. Mysterio’s figure floats over to him landing softly on the gravel rooftop. Behind him, two drones uncloak dramatically, no doubt targeting the webslinger with whatever weapons they have equipped.

“Well, Spider-man,” the villain starts his monologue. “Looks like this is-.”

He’s cut off by a slam behind him as one of the drones suddenly crashes to the ground. Its lights fade as it shuts down. Then, there’s another crash, and another. The flying menaces start uncloaking and powering down. Spider-man, not one to take his luck for granted, springs up and delivers a solid punch straight into the fishbowl on the man’s head before cocooning him in webbing. After which, he collapses back onto his butt, huffing and puffing in exhaustion.

“Spider-man!”

The vigilante turns to see a man opening up the door to the roof, rushing forward.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “You took a nasty hit there.”

“I’m fine,” the wallcrawler stands up shakily. “Just need some rest and high calorie food, and I’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s a relief,” the man sees the shaking and goes to support him. “Sorry it took so long to shut down the drones. The firewall was more difficult than expected.”

“You shut them down?”

“My friend, actually. I can introduce you over a few pizzas.”

“Can’t wait to meet him.”

***

“Nice to meet you Spider-man. I’m Sue.”

Awesome drone hacker is a female. Cool. Time to reevaluate personal biases.

They’re sitting at a booth just down the street. Four different pizzas in front of them. The first two were free, curtesy of the grateful shop owner. The last two were paid for by the two, very impressive, civilians in front of the hero.

“So, how’d you do it?” Spider-man starts the conversation.

“Plugged into one of the relatively intact drones you took down,” she explains. “I figured that, since Mysterio was fighting you, he wouldn’t be able to counter me while I tried to break into the drones’ mainframe. It was tough,” she shrugs. “But I managed.”

“You know,” the grateful enhanced man says between scarfing down slices. “I do happen to have a few contacts at Stark Industries. Namely, the founder and the CEO. They could use talent like yours. I can’t promise anything, but I could see what I can do.”

“That’d be nice,” Sue blushes slightly. “I wasn’t really expecting anything other than to help out a bit, but that’d be nice.”

“Sounds good,” he grins. “You deserve some reward for what you did. Like I said, I can’t promise a job, but I can definitely get an interview.”

After Spider-man takes down two of the pies, and his two new friends fill themselves up, they split the leftovers and Spidey gets the woman’s contact information. He’d better get this pizza back home, and he’s kind of done with crime-fighting for today. On the bright side, he met some pretty interesting people.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and Kudos. Don't be mean.


	5. Adhesive Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Norse friend gets some first-aid. Unneeded, but appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but the idea came into my head, and I had to write it.

Chapter 5: Adhesive Lightning

He’s sitting down on a pile of debris, looking out over the rubble from the latest battle. There’s a bit of sadness in his eyes when he see’s the injured being carried away on stretchers. His heart weighs heavier when he sees the body bags. It’s a human cultural tradition he’s become all too familiar with as he’s spent time fighting on Earth. Either way, Thor, God of Thunder, sits watching as the recovery and aftermath unfold, guarding against another unexpected attack like the one that caused this incident.

“Mr. Thor.”

The Norse Avenger turns slightly towards the voice. It’s a young lad, a little dusty, but uninjured. The god smiles down at the boy.

“Yes, Young One?”

“You’re hurt,” the child points at Thor’s face. “Let me get a Band-Aid.”

Touching his face, Thor feels a slight cut on his cheek. It’s a small wound, it will probably heal within the hour. The child, however, has already climbed up onto Thor’s perch. He pulls something out of his pocket. There’s a slight rustling, before something sticks on the god’s face.

“There,” the boy declares. “All done. Mommy said that those can get infected, so you have cover them.”

“Thank you,” the god pats the kid’s head. “Now come. We should find your family.”

The hero scoops the boy into his arms. Looking down at the crowd, there are more than a few people with cameras pointed up at them. Not only those reporters and press that irk Thor just as much as they amuse him, but also the common civilians with their cellphones. Ignoring them as he walks, he starts asking the boy where he last saw his mother. It doesn’t take long to find them, and the reuniting of a child with their parent always holds a special place in his heart.

When it became clear that there would be no second wave of attacks, Thor began assisting in the cleanup efforts. During this time, his comrades would take the occasional glance at his face, but there would be no comment given. Maybe if some of the jester-like individuals were here, but Stark is somewhere in Europe and Barton is training some new archer that he picked up. Even with that, he can see a small smirk of amusement from Ms. Romanov.

The sturdy God of Thunder keeps the bandage on throughout the day. He has heard that the mortals admire him, and the younger ones attempt to emulate him. They are not as strong, or easily healed, as the neigh immortal being. With that, Thor decides it might do them good to see him making sure his injuries are covered and properly tended to.

Walking into his room at the Tower, he silently thanks Stark once again for the convenient lavatories that he has provided the team. Regular bathing is a must for any warrior, but there is also something soothing about feeling of a shower. Like warm rain, washing away the grime and dirt. The various different cleaning liquids, that the man has yet to completely master, also allow him a plethora of different scents.

He steps into the room and begins to disrobe in preparation for his cleaning. During that time, however, he happens to glance at the mirror. His entire body is covered in dust and grime, but something seems to stand out from it. Thor lets out a hearty laugh as he sees his face.

Right there, on his cheek, is the small bandage. There are designs on it. With a bright, sky blue background, the yellow lightning bolts almost seem to pop off the surface of the small object.

“Very fitting, Young Man.”


	6. Reloads and Radios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not like everyone can get away from the scene in time. Might as well make themselves useful while they wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit more of the Neighborhood Watch trying to help in what little ways they can.

Chapter 6: Reloads and Radios

Hawkeye regularly has issues with ammunition. Even with his collection of collapsible arrows, curtesy of Stark and SHIELD, he’s usually almost empty by the end of any long and drawn-out battles. This latest attack by your stereotypical evil genius is one such example. Individually, the bots aren’t an issue, especially for the Avengers and the vigilantes that have come out to defend New York. But man is there a lot of them, and a lot of them are annoyingly sturdy.

It takes more than one arrow to take down some of them, and the archer is one his last quiver. He’s in charge of the perimeter this time, searching for bots on the edges of the fight, and cleaning up. He’s currently sweeping one of the relatively intact apartment buildings. Probably won’t be anything in here, but better safe than sorry.

“Hawkeye?”

He has an arrow drawn and pointed in the direction of the voice. When he sees who it is, he relaxes slightly. It’s a young man, probably less than thirty, maybe even younger. He’d spend a bit more time looking the kid over, but what he has in his arms kind of causes him to focus on that.

“Are those my arrows?”

The guy smiles. “Yep, I’ve been collecting them from the downed bots. Most of them were damaged, but these ones are intact. Thought you could use them.”

Accepting the gift, the Avenger frowns as he checks over the collection in his hands. Kid’s right, none of them are damaged.

“Thanks,” he looks back at the civilian. “But you shouldn’t be here. Civilians were told to evacuate from the vicinity of the fight.”

“‘Or stay away from the combat area if evacuation isn’t possible,’” the civilian finishes. “Which I have been doing. These arrows are from where the fight has already moved on.”

“What about now?” Clint argues. “You happen to be in the fight now.”

“I happen to be in my apartment now,” he retorts. “Hiding out. Like everyone says we should do if we can’t evacuate. I picked the arrows up on my way here. The main battle is three blocks away, all of the other bots are moving in that direction. The only ones left around here are stragglers. I was going to hand those arrows to damage control after everything was over and done with, but I figured you could use them sooner rather than later.”

Clint’s been restocking his arrows while the conversation goes on. He looks back at the man who seems to have no qualms about arguing with an Avenger.

“How do you know where the bots are?”

“I’m not the only one hiding out in my apartment. We have a radio network that we use when the cellphone traffic is packed during these disasters. Most of the people on the Neighborhood Watch are HAM certified. We tell everyone where the safe areas are to hide out, and it is process of elimination from there. There are also plenty of live-streamers on social media that have their locations pinged that you can use to track the fight.”

Clint Barton is a bit surprised at that. He’d never thought that the civilians would be this organized. Still, if they’re already doing it…

“Think you could tell me the frequency for your network. It could help us track the fight.”

The man rattles off the frequency. “I’ll have to let them know you’re going to be on the signal, keep the casual conversation down so you guys can focus.”

“What’s your name?”

The civilian smiles at the hero. “Jason.”

“Well, Jason,” Clint returns the smile. “Stay safe, and thanks for your help.”

As Barton starts running through the streets to get back to the fight, he speaks through his coms.

“Hey, Stark. Think you could patch into a radio frequency for me. Could be of use to us for the fight. Also, I want you to look something up after we’re done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even when they've shown how he keeps so many arrows on him despite the limited amount of quivers, he'd still run out fairly quick, and they'd more than likely break a lot during the combat, when they aren't being blown up on purpose.
> 
> Comments and Kudos. Don't be mean.


End file.
